Of Fleas and Flying
by Sabertooth Kitty
Summary: NEW DM 5- Penfold has gone to visit his auntie in the US, and Judas seems to have come down with an unusual case of fleas. Can Danger Mouse save the world from Baron Greenback's next evil scheme... alone?


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Of Fleas and Flying

Rated PG for crude humor.

I take no credit for any character or setting already belonging to _Cosgrove Hall Films_. However, Judas Franklin and Sabrina Panthera are my characters, and should not be used without my written consent.

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Author's Notes: I really don't have much to say. All I can really tell you is that this story is _partially_ inspired by an episode from **CatDog** (don't ask…). 

Also, for your entertainment and understanding, I have decided to do something new. Since there will be conversations in different languages (mainly Italian in this story), any text written **completely** in italics surrounded by quote marks_ "like this" _would be the same as hearing that language and reading the English translation. **Without** the quote marks, it's just a thought. Get it? Got it? Good! Enjoy!! ^_^

It was a quiet morning in London that day. In fact, all week it had been quite peaceful; nothing peculiar seemed to be going on at all. Even Danger Mouse- the world's greatest secret agent- had finally found a chance to sit back and relax for a while. 

Inside the Mayfare pillar-box, DM sat comfortably on the couch, reading a few ancient manuscripts. For the last few days, not a single mission had come up. It worried him somewhat- usually, villains worked quickly, and when nothing happens for even a few days, chances are that the next scheme was going to be a challenge.

A German Shepherd dog- the agent's American recruit, Judas Franklin- sauntered into the parlor. He yawned and stretched, looking as if he had just woken up. "Man, did I sleep good last night," he commented, scratching his back and glancing at Danger Mouse. "So, what's for breakfast?"

"Breakfast was hours ago, Judas," DM replied, giving the recruit a sidelong look. "If you'd like, there's tea in the kitchen- help yourself."

Judas shook his head. "Nah, tea's not my thing," he answered, walking into the kitchen. "I'll just make myself some coffee."

The agent rolled his eyes as he stood to follow the pooch. "Judas, we don't have a coffee-maker," he informed, stepping into the kitchen.

Laughing, Judas turned about swiftly. "Correction- **you** don't have a coffee-maker," he remarked, drawing DM's attention to a small device on the kitchen counter. "**I** do!"

Surprised, Danger Mouse cocked his eyebrows. "That's odd," he murmured. "I don't remember that being here yesterday."

The recruit leaned over the counter, waiting for the first batch to brew. "It wasn't," he said, tending to the itch behind his ear. "I picked it up yesterday, after we dropped off Penfold at his aunt's place in New York and before we went on that mission in the countryside." He sniffed under his arm, adding, "It's a nice place to visit, but 5 baths a night is more than I can bear."

The White Wonder pulled out a chair and sat at the table. "That is the last time I let **you** drive," he muttered. "Honestly- driving it through the woods and crashing into a mud-wallow-"

With a heavy sigh, Judas turned and glared at the agent. "Hey, I said I was sorry," he snapped. "Your car has all these weird buttons and stuff; how was I supposed to know that the red button was the hyper-speed??"

As Judas filled his first cup of coffee, Danger Mouse cocked his eyebrows in disbelief. "The least you could have done was _ask_ which button was the radio," he pointed out. "I was being **more** than lenient to simply have you clean the _Mark III_."

Of course, Judas was far from finished with this argument. "With a toothbrush," he added sharply. "It took me all night to get that thing looking clean! I'm surprised I had enough time to sleep!"

"Which explains why you didn't get up this morning," DM commented. "It's almost noon, and you ask for breakfast??"

Judas sneered, stirring his coffee with a spoon. "You know, you're lucky that you're my superior and not my peer," he growled, scratching the itch on his arm. "You don't want to know some of the things I've said to my roommates." He sipped his coffee and immediately spit it back out, disgusted with the taste. "Oh, man! What is this- a cup of joe or a cup of mud?!"

The agent smirked. "Not what you're used to?" he inquired.

Unamused, the pooch let out a mocking chuckle. "You're a regular comedian, DM; if you weren't a secret agent, you'd be the best lounge act in London," he spat, fiddling around with the coffee machine. "Dang- I knew I should have gone with dark-light roast!"

Once Judas had slumped into a chair at the table, Danger Mouse stood and poured two cups of tea. Returning to the table, he set one of the cups beside the recruit. "Take it," the agent advised, sipping from his own cup. "You might actually like it."

Sighing, Judas sampled his cup of tea. Upon his first taste, he puckered slightly and stuck his tongue out. "Bitter," he said, setting the cup aside and scratching his neck. "_Way_ too bitter for my tastes."

DM shrugged. "It's obviously a taste you aren't used to," he reasoned. "Give it time; you could grow to like it. Either that, or it's simply an acquired taste."

The recruit rolled his eyes, scratching his arm mildly. "I'll go with the 'acquired taste' deal," he remarked, following the itch up his arm and along his shoulders. "No offense, but it kind of reminded me of the liquid vitamins my mom used to give me when I was a kid. Nasty stuff, man!"

Amused with Judas' attempt at humor, the agent smirked. "Just as well, I suppose," he uttered, then remembering something. "Did you find Penfold's instructions on the washing machine?"

Scratching wildly behind his ears, Judas nodded. "It was easy, once I learned to read the little guy's handwriting," he commented, reaching for hard-to-reach places to itch. "I think we're gonna do pretty well by ourselves; with Penfold visiting his aunt for the week, we'll have time to bond and do stuff together. That reminds me- can I borrow the car?"

"**No**," Danger Mouse snapped, remembering the last incident. He then noticed how much Judas was itching and asked a pending question. "Ah, Judas, are you feeling alright?"

Judas groaned as he tried to scratch his ears and his back at the same time. "Yeah, I'm fine," he lied. "Never better, pal."

With a heavy sigh, DM stood and left the kitchen. He soon returned with a rather large magnifying glass. "Hold still, Judas," he advised, grabbing the recruit's arm and looking through the glass. "Good grief!"

Worried, Judas tried to shove the agent aside so he could get a good look. "What? What's wrong??" he questioned. "Is it ticks?! _Please_ don't tell me I've got ticks!"

Danger Mouse held Judas' arm firmly and shoved the pooch's face away. "Judas, shush," he murmured. "You don't have ticks- at least, not as far as I can tell. You do, however, have quite a few fleas-"

The American pooch groaned. "Fleas?? No!" he whined. "I can't have fleas! No one in my family has ever had fleas!!"

Walking over to the video-screen in the living room, DM gave Judas a side-long look. "Well then, congratulations," he muttered. "You'll be the first."

After the agent typed in a few digits, an odd figure appeared on screen. He seemed to be a mole, rather short and a touch stout. He wore large glasses and a lab coat, and he looked as if he were fiddling with a couple of test tubes. Taking notice of the video-screen, he turned around. "_Ach_, Danger Mouse," he said, speaking with a German accent. "How might I help you?"

"Good afternoon, Professor Squawkencluck," Danger Mouse greeted. "I was hoping that you might be able to help my recruit. He seems to have a bit of a flea problem."

The Professor smiled. "_Ach_, young Judas," he commented. "Bring him to me."

With a simple nod, DM went back into the kitchen and dragged Judas back into the parlor. "Here he is, Professor," he remarked. "Do what you will with him- anything to get rid of the fleas."

The recruit veered back in shock. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," he halted. "First off, sir, I _don't_ have a flea problem." Tending to the itch on his neck, he turned his head and glared at the agent. "Second off, DM, who is this quack??"

"_Zhat_ is 'cluck'," the professor corrected. "Professor 'Squawkencluck'."

Unable to tell much of a difference, Judas slowly nodded. "Yeah, sure, okay," he agreed, scratching behind his leg. "Still, you've _got_ to believe me- I don't have a flea problem! It's just a little itch- nothing that some cream and a bottle of bug spray won't cure."

Of course, neither Danger Mouse nor Professor Squawkencluck were about to believe that. "Just as well, perhaps you should come to _miene_ laboratory and _ve vill zee_ for ourselves, _ja_?" he suggested.

The agent nodded. "Agreed," he replied. "We'll stop by in an hour, Professor."

As the screen flickered off, Judas whined and slumped onto the couch. "Why fleas?" he groaned. "Why couldn't it be lice?? I'd even tolerate a few ticks compared to this!" He scratched behind his ears, thinking, _Well, at least no one else knows…_

Meanwhile, farther away (though still deep in the heart of London), two fellow crooks laughed as they strolled along the boulevard. One of them was a tall male figure, apparently a crow, wearing a long trench-coat in an attempt to disguise himself from the public. Beside him strode a semi-muscular female figure, this one a cat, dressed in a black tank-top and cargo pants that matched quite well with her dark-gray fur.

The cat cackled with delight. "Oh, that was great!" she said with a chuckle. "I never would have guessed robbing unsuspecting passers-by could be so… _exciting_, not to mention _rewarding!_" She turned to the crow, adding, "Thanks for bringing me with you, Stiletto."

Stiletto laughed. "Not-a problem, Sabrina," he replied, taking out two wallets from his coat-pocket. "Ai- which-a you want?"

With a heavy sigh, Sabrina glanced at the two wallets. "How to choose," she murmured, a puzzled look upon her face. "Genuine leather or imitation black leather… I'll take the black one- it suits me well."

As Stiletto handed her the black wallet, Sabrina stopped for a moment. She gazed at a nearby shop window, a smirk crossing her face. "Now _that's_ what I could use," she commented.

Confused, Stiletto looked at the shop window. It was a beach apparel store, and among the blankets and beach balls he saw what had caught his partner's eye- a slick black bikini. Needless to say, this only caused more confusion.

Sabrina glanced at Stiletto. "I **need** that bikini," she hissed. "One of these days, the old toad's gonna give me some well-deserved vacation time, and I'm **not** going without something that makes me look sexy _and_ dangerous! Understand??"

Of course, Stiletto still did not see the point of pilfering something so… trivial. He was used to stealing food, clothes, and necessary supplies; swim-wear was probably the last thing on his mind.

Groaning, Sabrina rolled her eyes. "Alright- I'll go in and find one that fits," she explained. "Could you _at least_ stay outside and wait for me??"

The Italian henchman nodded as Sabrina went inside the store. He liked Sabrina, but there were times when he realized that they were two completely different people. The gender gap wasn't the only thing that caught his attention- their nationalities and species were also, occasionally, something of a problem. Even their backrounds were different!

Suddenly, a shrill beeping sound interrupted Stiletto's thoughts. He reached into his coat-pocket and answered a small cell-phone. Only a select few knew the number- all of them were allies working for Greenback, and for his convenience, all of them spoke Italian. _"Hello?"_

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"Stiletto?" a voice answered. _"It's me- Angelino. I have some very interesting news for the Baron."_

Intrigued, Stiletto strayed from the shop and sneaked into a nearby alley to continue the conversation. _"Go on,"_ he pressed.

Angelino chuckled lightly. _"I thought you might be curious,"_ he remarked. _"In any case, it's about the Baron's arch-enemy: Danger Mouse."_

Indeed, this had to be big news! _"Yes, what about him??"_ Stiletto inquired hastily.

__

"It appears as if he's going to be a bit short-handed for a few days," Angelino clarified. _"His assistant- you know, that annoying little hamster- is out of town, out of the country, visiting his auntie in the United States. Also, I have just received word that the rodent's recruit- the American dog- seems to have come down with a bad case of fleas. That means that Danger Mouse won't have his two companions tagging along, which gives the Baron quite an advantage."_

Stiletto chuckled. _"That's certainly worth hearing,"_ he replied, glancing back at the store. _"I'll be sure to pass the message along to the Baron. For now, I have other things to worry about."_

After a brief pause, Angelino let out a laugh. _"Oh, I see,"_ he said. _"You and the American dame are out on the town? I warned you, Stiletto- once they get the hang of pilfering pocket change, it won't be long before they're shoplifting bikinis."_

Surprised, Stiletto looked about the area worriedly. _"Angelino, how'd you know??"_ he questioned.

The mysterious character remained emotionless. _"I have my ways,"_ he answered. _"You seem to be quite fond of Sabrina. You've been spending so much of your time with the girl. Tell me- would it be accurate to call the two of you 'lovers'?"_

Unamused, Stiletto sneered. _"Shut your mouth, Angelino,"_ he snapped. _"Sabrina and I are good friends, and nothing else."_

__

"Of course," Angelino remarked. _"I should be going anyway. Goodbye, Stiletto, and do invite me to the wedding when you finally decide to actually marry the girl."_

Before Stiletto could retaliate, Angelino had hung up. Angered, he shoved the phone back into his coat-pocket. This wasn't the first time that one of the spies had gotten on his nerves- being close to the Baron, he was occasionally subject to ridicule. Even before Sabrina's arrival, it wasn't uncommon for a smart-alec spy like Angelino to hassle the Italian henchman while on-duty; the fact was, however, that since she had come along, it was a **lot** easier to do so. _"Jerk,"_ he muttered.

At that moment, the phone rang again. In his blind anger, Stiletto picked up the infernal device and answered the phone. _"Alright, Angelino,"_ he snapped. _"Do me a favor and stop calling me! The girl and I are not interested in that way, **so leave me alone!!**"_

Oddly enough, a different voice replied. "Stiletto?"

Stiletto blushed bright red in embarrassment. "Ah, Sabrina," he answered. "Sorry about-a that. I forgetted that-a you have-a my cell phone number."

"Not a problem," Sabrina commented. "Anyway, I need you to come inside for a minute."

Suddenly, Stiletto remembered the important details of his conversation with Angelino. "Ai, before that, Sabrina," he whispered, "there's-a something I gotta talk to you about-a."

Intrigued, Sabrina listened closely. "Alright," she said. "Go ahead."

"It's-a Danger Mouse," Stiletto explained. "His-a friends- the hamster and-a the dog- they're going to be gone-a for a while. Penfold, he's-a visiting a relative; and-a Judas, he is-a having a problem with-a the fleas. That-a means that Danger Mouse, he is-a all alone!"

Sabrina chuckled. "Well, that's going to make our job a lot easier, isn't it?" she remarked. "We'd better get back to the Baron and tell him the good news, but first- I need you to come inside the store."

Rolling his eyes, Stiletto hung up the cell phone and went inside the store. There he saw Sabrina, holding a bundle of clothes which must have been her bikini. "I can't get these things outside," she hissed. "They have special tags on them! If I walk through the door with them, I'll be caught!"

With a heavy sigh, Stiletto walked beside the door. He found a small metallic device, apparently the control box for the security system and alarms for the doors. He took out a pocketknife and switched up the blade, shoving the weapon into the control box. He stood again, taking the pilfered bikini and strolling outside.

A smirk across her face, Sabrina followed her friend outside. "Thanks," she uttered, taking back the bikini. "You're a prince, you know that?"

As the two walked down the street together, the cell phone rang once more. Stiletto picked up the phone and answered, _"Hello?"_

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"Just thought I'd add something," a familiar voice replied. _"Good night, sweet **prince**; I hope you sleep **very **well."_

Angered, Stiletto hung up on the smart-alec Angelino. _"Idiot,"_ he muttered, turning off the phone.

Glancing at her friend out of the corner of her eye, Sabrina felt a touch concerned. "You okay?" she asked.

Stiletto nodded. "Si, si," he muttered. "Just-a friend, really."

With a slight shrug, Sabrina dropped the conversation. _If Italian friends yell at each other through the phone,_ she thought,_ then I'm not entirely sure I want to visit Italy…_

Things seemed to be going quite well at Professor Squawkencluck's laboratory. Danger Mouse stood idly by as Judas sat on an examination table in a hospital apron (you know, the light-colored ones that don't have a back… quite drafty, really).

Professor Squawkencluck leaned forward, looking through the magnifying glass he held near Judas' bare arm. He ran his fingers through the dog's soft fur coat, seeking out the tiny invaders.

After a moment of silence, the professor finally looked up. "It _zeems_ as if we have a _veery_ interesting _zituation_," he remarked, turning to Judas. "_Zese_ fleas you have… _zey _are extremely intelligent."

Judas let an awkward smile cross his face. "So, what?" he queried. "Does that mean I can make them do tricks?? Oh, cool- my own flea circus!"

"No, no, no!" Squawkencluck countered. "_Zey_ are far more intelligent _zen_ all other fleas. Observe…"

Curious, Judas looked through the professor's magnifying glass. He saw the countless number of fleas, but as he had learned earlier, they were no ordinary fleas- the whole of his arm had been turned into a miniature village! The fleas themselves strolled about their tiny town, occasionally stopping at the local pub to have a pint… of Judas' blood! It was as if the history of England had repeated itself, with Judas as the plot of land and these fleas as the townsfolk!!

Wide-eyed with wonder, Judas gazed up from the magnifying glass. "No way," he murmured. "No way! No way is this possible!" He turned to DM with a shocked look. "Dude, you've **got** to see this!!"

The agent sauntered up beside the American hound and gazed into the magnifying glass. "Good grief!" he shouted, both surprised and amused.

The professor smirked, moving the glass beyond Judas' arm and to his forehead. "Ah, _boot_ you haven't _zeen_ anything yet," he commented.

The White Wonder chuckled lightly as he looked upon the mutt's brow. "Well, Judas," he said, trying to stifle the laughter, "it seems as if your fleas have built a complete medieval village; it even has it's own castle!"

Shocked, Judas grabbed a nearby mirror and glanced at the reflection. A small bump penetrated the fur coating on his forehead; brushing the fur away gently, he saw it. "Oh, dang it!" he snapped. "My forehead is no place for a castle! The madness has to stop!" He glared at the professor. "You- can you fix this??"

For a moment, Professor Squawkencluck was quiet. "_Vell_, Judas, it might take me a _vhile_-"

Suddenly, the professor was interrupted when Judas crashed to his knees and wrapped his arms around Squawkencluck's knees. "Please, you've got to help me!" he cried. "If my family sees my like this, I'll never live it down! I'll be the laughingstock at the family reunions!" He gazed up at the professor with sad eyes, adding, "Please help me, doc! You've **got** to help me, and if you don't, then I'm not too proud to beg! Come on, please, please, please, please, **please!!**"

With a heavy sigh, Squawkencluck nodded. "Alright, Judas," he agreed. "It could take _zome_ time, but if you are patient, _zen_ I am sure _ve vill_ have you cured in no time."

Relieved, Judas shook the professor's hand eagerly and stood. "Thanks, doc," he said, turning towards Danger Mouse. "So… I guess this means you're on your own for a while, huh?"

"I've survived worse," DM replied. "I'll tell you about the missions once Professor Squawkencluck has taken care of your flea problem." He glanced at the professor and asked, "By the way, how long might it take you to get rid of these fleas?"

Professor Squawkencluck led the agent aside for a moment. "_Ach_, _zis_ could take a _vhile_, Danger Mouse," he answered. "First of all, I _vould_ like to document _zese_ specimens- _zey_ rarely appear in _ze vild_, you know. _Vhat_ I plan to do, however, is experiment _vit_ a new flea collar I am designing for out _ozer_ agents. I have _ozer_ methods, _boot_ if all else fails, I _vill_ dip _ze_ pup in a flea bath."

The White Wonder yawned. "Yes, yes," he murmured, "but how long will it take? Do you have a rough estimate?"

Thinking for a moment, the professor came up with a feasible date. "Perhaps… a _veek_ or two, three at _ze_ most."

Danger Mouse nodded in reply. "Well, in that case, you might experience a few… problems," he remarked. "The boy is a bit eccentric, so please try to be careful with whatever you plan to use on him."

The professor smiled. "Do not _vorry_, Danger Mouse," he advised. "I _vill_ treat _ze_ boy as if he _vere miene_ own son."

A familiar voice interrupted their conversation. "Hey, doc, help me out here!" Judas shouted. "No rush or anything, but I think they're starting to form their own government! You might wanna hurry before this gets out-of-hand!!"

Surprised, Squawkencluck returned to the examination room. "Coming!" he cried.

A casual smirk crossed DM's face as he turned to leave. _Well,_ he thought, _for the first time in a good long time, I'll finally have some peace and quiet to myself for a change…_

Something was stirring within Baron Greenback's hidden hideout as well. Stiletto and Sabrina had finally returned, and at once reported to their boss's office. 

As the two partners approached the office, Sabrina attempted to hide the item she had pilfered. "You think he might be mad if he found out I shoplifted a bikini?" she asked.

"Maybe," Stiletto replied, pressing a button outside the door to the office. "Not-a that you stoled, but-a _what _you stoled."

A familiar voice answered via the intercom. "Stiletto, Sabrina, come in," Greenback welcomed. "I assume that you've brought good news."

Entering the office with the dark-furred feline, Stiletto smiled. "Si, Barone," he responded. "It's-a Danger Mouse- he no has-a Penfold or Judas around!"

The Baron nodded, gently stroking his pet caterpillar Nero. "So I've heard," he said. "However, their absence is only temporary; we must act quickly."

Sabrina cocked her eyebrows in a somewhat confused manner. "And you plan to do this… how??" she queried.

With an evil chuckle, Greenback took out a rolled-up set of blueprints. "Be patient, Sabrina," he advised, handing the plans to his trusted henchman. "I have a special invention- changes the weather patterns all over the world. Sadly, it remains unfinished… until today." He laughed, adding, "Stiletto, all of the plans are here- see to it that this project is finished within a few days. We don't want that meddling Danger Mouse interfering with our plans again."

The two nodded in reply, taking a peek at the plans as they left. "This is nice," Sabrina complemented. "Very nice indeed… hurricanes, tornadoes, earthquakes… destruction at it's finest."

Stiletto sighed heavily. "Si, si," he agreed. "This-a could take a while… better get-a started."

The female feline followed close behind her partner. "Wait up, I'll come with you," she offered. "Maybe I could help you out; I took auto-shop in high school."

For a moment, the Italian henchman stopped. He turned around, smiling at Sabrina. "_Grazi_," he replied. "Thank-a you, Sabrina."

"No problem," the dark-furred feline replied. "I thought I'd return the favor, since you did help me earlier." She then remembered something and added, "First I'll toss the bikini in my room, get it out of the way… now, where did I put it…"

While Sabrina searched her pockets, Stiletto stood idly by and watched. Of course, he had known all along that she had dropped it somewhere between Greenback's office and their present location… except, he had no idea where it was either.

Groaning in frustration, Sabrina glanced at her partner. "I don't get it," she growled. "I had it right here with me when we went into the Baron's office! It has to be around here somewhere!!"

A chilling thought came to Stiletto's mind. "Ah, Sabrina," he inquired, "are-a you _sure_ you didn't drop it-a anyplace?"

Upset, Sabrina glared at the hench-crow. "Of course I'm sure!" she barked. "It has to be out here! Where else could it be?!"

Suddenly, a familiar voice came on over the intercom. "Sabrina," the Baron addressed, slightly irritated in tone. "Report to my office at once. I believe I have something here that might belong to you."

Mortified, the female feline smacked herself on the forehead. "Go on without me, Stiletto," she groaned. "I have a feeling that this might take a while…"

**__**

A week or so later…

DM sighed as he laid back comfortably on the couch. The past week had been so peaceful without Penfold running about or Judas making a mess. Until now, he had forgotten what life alone was like!

As his mind drifted, the agent realized something he hadn't before. Without his assistant or their recruit, the pillar-box had been so quiet… almost too quiet. He had grown so used to the noise and activity that the sound of _silence_ bothered him!

Too irritated to rest, Danger Mouse rose from the couch and sauntered over to a nearby table. Amidst the stack of mail laid a postcard; the words **_Greetings from New York_** stood out very well in bold, decorative print. There was no question who had sent this friendly greeting.

A smile crossed DM's face as he picked up the postcard and read the back. Penfold seemed to be having a good time with his aunt. They had already seen so much- they even went to see what remained of the World Trade Center towers. Thankfully they had already seen the towers before the events of September 11, but it was especially important to his aunt (who had been living in the US for quite some time) to see this with her nephew, her closest living relative.

At that moment, a shrill beeping alerted DM. He turned to the video-screen to see the face of Colonel K. "Yes, colonel?" he inquired.

"Ah, Danger Mouse- got another mission for you," Colonel K answered. "It seems that there's been an odd change in weather patterns- tornadoes, hurricanes, storms in places they shouldn't be! The chaos has been tracked to a giant flying machine headed right for England. Find out who's behind it and stop them now!"

The agent nodded. "Right away, sir," he replied as the screen flickered off. He hopped onto the couch, descending into the garage and into his vehicle, the _Mark III_. As he sped off into the streets of London and activated the wings on his special car, he couldn't help but wonder how Judas was doing with the professor…

Judas laid back on the bed that Professor Squawkencluck had provided for him. Despite the fact that he was wearing a flea collar (well, actually, one of the professor's prototypes), he was itching uncontrollably. _Ooh, wait 'til I get my hands on that quack_, he thought. _I'll wring his little neck good- hopefully some of the fleas will jump ship._

Then, a familiar figure entered the room. "_Ach_, Judas," he addressed. "How did you _zleep_?"

Aggravated, Judas turned to the professor. "How do you think I slept??" he spat. "I've never been so miserable in my life! I'd rather get bitten by cobras, mauled by tigers, and hit in the crotch with a thousand footballs than put up with these fleas anymore!!"

Obviously, Professor Squawkencluck could see poor Judas' pain. "_Zo_, _ze_ flea collars aren't _vorking_?" he guessed.

"**What do you think?!**" Judas snapped angrily.

With a heavy sigh, the professor pulled out a copy of _So, You've Got Fleas- Now What?_. After skimming through the pages, he closed the rather think book and approached Judas. "_Vell_, _zere_ is _zomething zhat_ I could try-" he began.

The recruit immediately leapt forward, grasping the professor's shoulders. "I'll do anything- **anything!**" he cried. "I don't care what you have to do; **just do it!!**"

Nodding, Professor Squawkencluck lead Judas out of the room and down the hall. _If he regrets zhis_, he thought, _zen_ _it is his own fault…_

Meanwhile, within the giant hovering weather machine, Greenback sat comfortably in his secluded office. He was impressed with how well his invention had come out; with Stiletto's occasionally unsteady hand and Sabrina's unexpected help, he almost expected the project to go unfinished once more. This was indeed a pleasant surprise.

Suddenly, one of the scanners in the Baron's office began to go off. He did not have to look at the screen to know who it was.

With a frustrated groan, Baron Greenback pressed the intercom button. "Stiletto, Sabrina, be on high alert," he warned. "It seems as if that wretched rodent is in our midst."

In another part of the complex, the two henchman heard the Baron's call. They gave each other a sidelong look and smirked; they had something special planned for the solo agent…

Danger Mouse approached what appeared to be a mass of swirling winds. He knew that somewhere, a giant hovering weather machine would be found. Although he had his suspicions, he was quite curious as to who was behind this evil scheme.

Suddenly, a dark patch opened in front of the _Mark III_. Too close to veer away, the vehicle drove straight into the darkness as the light from the partially-cloudy sky seemed to fade away.

Unsure of where he was, DM steadied the _Mark III_, slowing down the vehicle ever so slightly. He was about to turn on the headlights when natural light flowed in around him, revealing where he was. "Good grief," he muttered, taking in the view of the huge metallic room, equipped with powerful turbines. "This must be the weather machine!"

At that moment, an oddly familiar voice interrupted the agent's thoughts. "Ah, Danger Mouse," he greeted. "I'm so glad that you were able to join us."

The White Wonder sneered. "Greenback!" he shouted, looking around for the Terrible Toad or his henchmen. "I should have guessed."

"Oh, how I wish you could stay," the Baron taunted, adding a slight chuckle. "I'm afraid, however, that I'm quite busy. Stiletto, Sabrina- show our friend here the way out."

As Greenback's voice faded, Stiletto and Sabrina showed themselves inside. Using a complicated stairwell built around the hollow inside of the main complex, they were able to move around without using a hovering vehicle such as the _Mark III_.

Sabrina grinned evilly. "Well, DM, it looks like you're stuck," she remarked. "Apart from the hatch doors the Baron operates, the only way out it through there…" She used her claw-like finger to indicate the huge turbine engines located around the base.

Stiletto laughed. "Of-a course," he added, "your car- she won't-a get out in-a _un_ piece… and **you** won't-a either."

With threats like that, Danger Mouse couldn't help but feel a tad worried. _Well, if that's the way they want to operate,_ he thought, _then that's how I'll operate. How hard could this really be, anyway?_

It was at that moment that Sabrina turned to Stiletto. "Bring it out," she ordered, adding a wink.

Without delay, the hench-crow pressed a few buttons on the control panel. In an instant, hundreds of small red lights light aglow, surrounding the agent. "You like this display?" Sabrina queried. "They're nothing special; just a few little laser beams, programmed to lock on-target… in this case, that would be you. I'm sure it's nothing you can't handle, rodent."

Shocked, DM looked around for an escape route. "Oh, good grief," he mumbled. "This just went from bad to worse."

As the two evil confidants cackled in delight, Stiletto pressed another large button. "Let-a the games start!" he announced.

While the lasers began to activate, Danger Mouse suddenly came up with a plan. Letting the lasers lock on the _Mark III_, he activated the hyper-speed and sped off at the last moment. "Movement," he said with a smirk. "So long as I keep moving, the lasers won't be able to lock!"

Watching this clever display from their position, Sabrina shot a glare at her friend. "You **did** make sure that they would lock on _moving_ targets, right?" she inquired.

Of course, this was one detail that poor Stiletto overlooked. "Ah, not-a exactly," he answered sheepishly.

Though a tad frustrated, the female feline remained calm. "Don't worry," she growled. "Sooner or later, he's got to run out of gas, and when that happens… no more Danger Mouse."

Just the same, the one-eyed agent was not willing to give up that easily. "Now, let's see," he muttered. "How can I deactivate these lasers while moving?"

At that moment, DM remembered something unusual- the other day, as Judas drove through the English countryside, he kept broadsiding bushes and small trees. While Judas may have been hitting those various plants accidentally, it was an idea that was crazy enough to work.

Danger Mouse steered the _Mark III_ closer and closer to the wall. In an instant, the whole side of the vehicle rammed against the wall, destroying the lasers in the process. "It's a good thing that the car has an extra coat of crush-resistant paint," he commented.

Sabrina gazed up at the spectacle in alarm. "Stiletto!" she shouted, turning to her comrade. "Do something!"

"I'm-a trying, Sabrina!" Stiletto screamed, fiddling with the instruments on the control panel.

Once all the lasers had been destroyed, DM halted the _Mark III_ and glared at Greenback's two henchmen. "Alright, you two," he addressed. "Where is Greenback??"

Needless to say, Sabrina and Stiletto hadn't quite given up yet. "Not so fast, rodent," the dark-furred feline spat. "You're still stuck here, and reinforcements are on their way. You won't be leaving any time soon."

As the two henchmen escaped from the main room and called for back-up, the agent glanced around the room. Sure enough, the only way out was through the turbines; the gap was big enough, but the fast-spinning blades were hard to avoid. He had to stop one of the turbines and squeeze through… but how??

Suddenly, the glove compartment of the car fell open. Among the various items scattered on the floor was a vaguely familiar item- a boomerang, picked up from a past excursion with Penfold.

Struck with an idea, Danger Mouse picked up the boomerang and leaned back. "This ought to do the trick," he muttered, letting go.

The boomerang flew through the air, eventually sliding in-between the blades of a turbine engine. The machine sputtered for a moment as smoke seeped out from between the blades. Finally, the turbine engine exploded, leaving a giant hole in the side of the weather machine.

At that moment, DM realized what he had just done; the smell of smoke and fumes was enough to indicate that the weather-alerting machine was faltering. Immediately, he forced down the accelerator and sped off through the huge gap. "That was close," he gasped. "Too close."

After having gotten a good distance from Greenback's vile machine, the agent turned his car around to get a good view of the wreck. The weather machine slowly made it's way to the shallow waters just meters from the English shoreline.

Danger Mouse smirked. "All in a day's work," he commented. "All in a day's work…"

****

A few days later…

DM stood outside Professor Squawkencluck's office. Today was the day Judas was scheduled to be released from the professor's care; it was also, conveniently, the day Penfold would be returning from his aunt's place in New York.

Finally, Professor Squawkencluck stepped outside. "_Ach_, Danger Mouse," he addressed. "It is _gud_ to _zee_ you again, _ja_?"

"_Ja_- I mean, yes," the agent replied, smiling a little. "Is Judas ready yet? I don't mean to rush him, but we have to leave soon."

Of course, the professor knew exactly why Judas was taking so long. "_Vell_, _ve_ are having a bit of a problem," he explained. "_Ze_ fleas _iz_ all gone, _boot_ Judas, he is… uncomfortable."

To say the least, Danger Mouse was a tad confused. "Uncomfortable?" he inquired. "Why, might I ask?"

With a heavy sigh, Professor Squawkencluck opened the door and stepped inside. "_Zee_ for yourself, Danger Mouse…"

Later in the day, the _Mark III_ arrived in New York City. Landing on the roof of an uptown apartment building, Danger Mouse stepped out as Judas slouched in the passenger seat.

Frustrated, DM turned to the recruit. "Judas, come out," he demanded. "Only Penfold and I can see you from up here."

"No way!" Judas yelled. "I'm not coming out, and you can't make me!"

The agent rolled his eyes. "Good grief," he mumbled.

At that moment, a shorter figure stumbled through the roof-top door, carrying two small bags at his side. Upon seeing the White Wonder, he hurried over as quickly as possible. "Chief!" he cried.

Danger Mouse smiled. "Penfold," he addressed. "Just go ahead and toss your bags in the boot of the car; we'll return home and have a cup of tea."

Nodding, Penfold threw his bags in the back-seat and joined Judas up front. "Hello, Judas," he greeted, glancing at the American canine. "My, you look awfully pink."

Judas growled; apparently, Penfold had noticed that the poor pooch had been shaved from head to toe, as a prevention against fleas and other blood-sucking parasites. "Shut up," he snapped.

DM stepped into the driver's seat and turned the ignition key. "Honestly, Judas," he muttered. "A loss of fur is nothing to worry about- the professor says it'll probably grow back in a matter of weeks."

Deeply upset, Judas glared at the agent. "Yeah, well, you're not the one who's suffering here," he complained. "Dude, this is worse than ticks and fleas combined! I'm not paying that quack a single cent!!"

"You didn't pay him at all," the agent reminded him. "The agency pays for everything, including your medical bills."

The recruit nodded hard. "See?" he confirmed. "I told you I wasn't gonna pay him, and I didn't. He got what he deserved in the end."

With a heavy sigh, Danger Mouse turned his attention to the lovely atmosphere of the Atlantic Ocean. _Be that as it may,_ he thought, _I'm not entirely sure that the Baron or his henchman got anything they deserved in the end…_

Meanwhile, back at Greenback's hidden headquarters, Stiletto and Sabrina walked through the hallway together. Both were _extremely_ exhausted, after having taken care of the wreckage from the Baron's weather machine, and they were more than deserving of a nice long nap.

Sabrina yawned. "I am beat," she said. "I don't think I'll be able to get up for at least another week or so."

The Italian henchman nodded in reply. "Si, si," he agreed. "I too could-a use a rest."

Opening the door to her quarters, Sabrina turned her head slightly and glanced at Stiletto. "Goodnight," she muttered. "Wake me when the next century rolls around, okay?"

Stiletto laughed as he turned to leave. Perhaps the last scheme hadn't worked well towards their advantage, but it did wonders for their friendship. Her help with the weather machine had brought them a little closer to each other than he would have expected. That, and she offered to beat up that smart-alec Angelino for a small fee.

Suddenly, a loud scream interrupted Stiletto's thoughts. Worried, he turned around and ran over to Sabrina's room. There stood the female feline, and at her feet were the remains of what used to be her bikini. Of course, that was not the only thing left on the floor; Nero had curled up in the shredded fabric, purring soundly in his sleep.

Furious, Sabrina turned to Stiletto. "You wanna help me out?" she offered, then glaring at little Nero, who had just awoken from his sleep. "Forget the slick black bikini- **caterpillar-skin caps** are about to come back in-style…"

The End… _or is it?? ^-^_


End file.
